


Just a Normal Thursday

by Antarctic_Echoes



Series: Luciferian Fics (One shots) [39]
Category: Lucifer (TV)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Naked Lucifer, a little romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-11
Updated: 2017-09-11
Packaged: 2018-12-26 15:16:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12061626
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antarctic_Echoes/pseuds/Antarctic_Echoes
Summary: What works on cats must also work on the Devil, right?  At least that's what Chloe hopes.  She has to try it on the mess that has become her regular Thursday event....Sequel to "Mbuki-Mvuki."  Takes place between S2x08 and S2x09.





	Just a Normal Thursday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Navaros](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Navaros/gifts).



> A super huge thank you to my wonderful friend, Navaros! Thank you for all of your wonderful ideas!! You are super-awesome!!  
> And thank you to Anonymoose for the prompt! You are also awesome!
> 
> This fic has not been beta-ed, so I apologize for all mistakes.
> 
>  
> 
> Disclaimer: Lucifer Morningstar, Chloe Decker and Dan Espinoza are owned by Vertigo Comics, DC Comics, Neil Gaiman, Mike Carey, and everyone else involved with the Lucifer TV show and comic books. I own nothing and make no money on this. I merely am borrowing the characters for... uh... writing practice.

 

 

Chloe Decker lived in fear of Thursdays.

It hadn’t always been like this. She used to look forward to Thursdays.  Going to the Downtown LA Art Walk and sampling all the food from the gourmet food trucks, making Trixie’s favorite vegetarian pumpkin chili, visiting Farmers Market -- it used to be such an enjoyable day.  And now look at her... practically dragging her feet as soon as her alarm went off.

But maybe today would be the day when she took back her Thursdays and turned them into something enjoyable again.

Having gotten an early morning call about a possible homicide, she drove through the fog-laden streets of Los Angeles until she reached the museum.  Dan trotted up to her as she parked and got out of her car.  Grabbing her bag on the passenger seat, she hefted it onto her shoulder and slammed the car door shut.  She took a deep breath.  The air smelled like rain -- not surprising, considering the gray mist that hugged the ground, giving the whole world an ethereal look.  

“Hey, where’s Lucifer?” Dan asked as he looked at the passenger side of her car.

“On his way.  Since it’s early, he said he’d meet me here.”  Chloe glanced at the building.  “What have we got?”

“The deceased is a middle-aged man named Jonah Barry -- one of the curators of this place.  The custodian -- a Larry DeSoto -- found him dead on the floor in one of the exhibit halls.  We’ve got DeSoto pulled aside for questioning.”  

“Okay.”

As she took a step toward the building, Dan stopped her with his hand on her arm.  “Uh... Chloe?  You know this is Thursday, right?”

A strange fluttering erupted in her stomach, making her feel ill.  Closing her eyes, she nodded.  “Yeah, I know.”

“I mean, what if....  This would be a bad place --”

“I know, Dan.  We just have to make sure it doesn’t happen.  Don’t worry, I have a plan.”

“A plan?”  Was that hope in his voice?

“Uh huh.”  She opened her shoulder bag and showed him what was inside.

His face was full of doubt as he looked at her.  “Do you think that will work?”

“I sure hope so.”  

A screech interrupted their conversation as Lucifer’s Corvette whipped into the parking lot and came to a halt in the no-parking zone.  Chloe shook her head.  Her partner could have easily pulled into a parking spot -- after all, there was hardly anyone here except for police officers -- but instead he chose to leave his car at the red curb, like usual.  How he managed to avoid getting his car towed was a complete mystery to her.

“Detective!  Daniel!”  Her partner’s happy voice rang out as he jogged up to them.  “So exciting to be on a new case.  So... what is it this time?  A grisly stabbing?  A vicious shooting?  A death from too much sex?”

Chloe watched the tall man rub his hands together enthusiastically like a mad scientist, and rolled her eyes.  “This is a museum, Lucifer.  I highly doubt there would be a death from too much sex here.”

The eager grin didn’t fade -- in fact, his smile widened as his eyes grew sultry.  “You never know, Detective.  After all, you can’t tell about these quiet types.  Why, maybe the couple involved were titillated by a painting by Titian?  Ooooh, I just love words that start with ti--”

“It wasn’t a couple, there was only one victim,” Chloe interrupted.  “Jonah Barry, one of the curators.”

“Alone -- right!  So he was painting the ceiling, then.”

She blinked at her partner.  “No, he wasn’t painting the ceiling.  I just told you he was a curator --”

“No, Detective -- painting the ceiling!  Was he painting the ceiling?  I think he would be, with all the wonderful paintings of naked men and women surrounding him.  I know they say one can go blind, but one can also die from it.”  He grew more animated as he warmed up to the subject.  “Why I once knew a man --”

Chloe’s brow furrowed.  “What are you talking about?”

Lucifer did a doubletake.  “Detective, surely you jest...?”  As she continued to stare blankly at him, a look of frustration crossed his face.  “You know, was he having a tug of war with Cyclops?”

She squinted at him as Dan started to snicker.  “I’m sorry, what?”

He gave her a saucy wink.  “Oh come now, Detective.  Surely you know what I’m talking about.  Choking the chicken?  Bucking the slobbering donkey?”

“You mean auditioning the finger puppets?” Dan added with a chuckle.

Lucifer brightened at the other man.  “Precisely!  Junior Olympic pole vaulting!”

“Junior Olympic...?”  Chloe frowned at her companions.  Had they gone completely bonkers?  “What the _hell_ are you two talking about?”

“We’re talking about applying the hand brake!”  Lucifer rolled his eyes when Chloe still didn’t react.  “Bloody hell, Detective!  Was he having a _wank?”_

“Oh for god’s sake,” she muttered as she rolled her eyes.  She was partnered with a twelve year old.   _A fricking twelve year old._  Turning on her heel, she marched into the building.

Her tall partner scrambled to keep up with her quick strides.  “Right.  I don’t think anyone would want to slap the salami for Dad’s sake, although someone might want to slap _his_ salami.  Frankly, I find that prospect quite nauseating, but you humans can be so odd --”

Whirling on him, she poked him in the chest.  “Listen, you -- if you can’t be serious about this, then go stand in the corner and stay there. And don’t touch anything.”  She glanced at Dan, now laughing openly behind Lucifer.  Twelve year olds, the both of them!  “And you -- you watch him until I’m done interviewing DeSoto.”

A look of panic fell across her ex’s face.  “Oh no, no, Chloe.  It’s Thursday, and... uh... I’m waiting for Ella to arrive.  I have to show her where the body is!”  

Chloe watched her coward of an ex-husband dash out the glass double doors to stand in the middle of the parking lot like a sentry.  Turning to Lucifer, she glared at him with her hands on her hips.  “Now you go and stay out of trouble.  I will come get you.”

He pouted.  “But Detective --“

“Go on!”  Shooing him into a courtyard filled with statues, she said, “And don’t touch anything!”

With that, she marched over to the exhibit hall to interview the custodian.

 

 

________________________________________

 

 

Jonah Barry’s death appeared to be from natural causes -- a heart attack, most likely.  No sign of blood or blunt force trauma, no indications of poisoning.  Ella told her it would take an autopsy to determine the cause of death, but there didn’t seem to be any indication that it was foul play.  

Thanking the forensic tech, Chloe took a deep breath and went in search of her wayward partner.  She hoped he hadn’t gotten into trouble.  After all, today was....

“It’s Thursday, isn’t it?” she overheard a photographer ask an officer.

“Yep, that it is.”  They both turned to look at her as she passed, their eyes filled with pity and resignation.  Shaking their heads, they went back to work.

Her shoulders slumped.  Even people she had met only briefly knew the significance of Thursday.

Heading over to the courtyard where she had left her partner, she passed a sign by the glass door which read _Angels Through the Ages_ and went outside.  Spotting Lucifer in the distance, standing in front of a huge marble statue, she was surprised to see how agitated he seemed.  Never taking his gaze off of the sculpture, he jammed his hands into his pockets then took them out again. He pulled out a cigarette from his silver case and fumbled with his lighter, but when it wouldn’t light, he cursed and jammed everything back into his pocket.  Chloe breathed a sigh of relief.  Well, at least he wasn’t smoking at the museum!

“Lucifer!”

As he turned at the sound of her voice, she saw his narrowed eyes and the tightness around his mouth.  “Detective, it’s about time you arrived.  Where have you been?”

Lifting an eyebrow, she folded her arms in front of her chest.  “Oh, I don’t know... how about interviewing the custodian about the dead body in the exhibit hall?”

He frowned darkly at her.  “Well you really should have been here. There are things of far greater importance which need to be dealt with.”

Chloe blinked at his words.  “What could be far more important than the fact that someone _died?”_

“This!”  Stepping to one side, Lucifer flung his arm at the statue of an angel with his wings outstretched, a sword in his hand, and a swath of marble cloth around his hips.  Chloe stared blankly at it, then him.

“It’s a statue of an angel.  So what?”

Seething, the tall man waved jerkily at it.  “That is not just any angel, that’s supposed to be my wanker of a brother, Mike.”  

Drawing her eyebrows together, she tried to follow the conversation.  “Your brother modeled for an artist?”

“No!  If it was something that minor, I wouldn’t care.”  He pointed at the angel’s feet.  “But _this_ is quite disturbing!”

Chloe’s gaze followed his finger to the base of the statue.  The angel was stepping on the head of a grotesque Devil.  Rubbing her forehead, she couldn’t keep the disbelief out of her voice.  “Oh, for crying out loud, Lucifer -- _this_ is what has you so upset?”

“Detective, in case you haven’t noticed it, the bloody tosser is stepping on my _head!_  Mike never stepped on my head!  The bloody coward wouldn’t _dare,_ because he knows I’d tear him apart.  And look -- _look!”_  He pointed at the marble Devil writhing under the foot of the angel.  “Bat wings!  Since when do I have bat wings?  And horns?  And a _tail?_  Bloody hell, why do you humans persist in making me into some... some bat-man-goat?!”

Concern marred her brow as she saw how wound up he was becoming.  “Look, Lucifer, there’s no reason to take this personally --”

“No reason?   _No reason?”_  His voice rose as he paced back and forth.  He paused to glare at the marble angel, started pacing again, then stopped in front of her.  His mouth worked as if he had something to say, but the only sounds that came out were little gagging noises.  Finally he said, “In case you haven’t noticed, Detective, your partner is the Devil.”

Chloe rolled her eyes.  Not _this_ again.  “I know you like to think you’re the Devil, but you’re not --”

He sighed gustily.  “I _am,_ Detective.”

“Lucifer --”

“But not only that, the sculptor dared to make Mike better looking than my marble self!”  Before she could even say a word, her partner doffed off all of his clothes and stood naked before her.  Striking a pose next to the angel with his arms akimbo, he waved at his wedding tackle with a flourish.  “Now I ask you, Detective, who has the better body?”

And there it was: he was naked.  Again.  Just like on every previous Thursday for the last year.  Well this was going to stop -- here and now.  Digging into her shoulder bag, she pulled out a big spray bottle and squirted him with ice cold water.

Crying out as the liquid hit his body, the tall man dashed away from her.  Chloe chased after him, spraying him for all she was worth.  “Bad, Lucifer, bad!” she scolded.  “Get your clothes on, now!”

“Bloody hell, Detective!”  He took refuge behind a statue of a different angel.  “You can’t spray me with water!  I’m not a bloody cat!”

“If you can’t behave, then I’m going to treat you like one!”  As she tried to hit him with water again, he ducked to one side of the sculpture, then the other.  Frustrated, she tried to anticipate his moves and spray him.  A few times she missed, but when he howled, she knew she had gotten him.  “Get your clothes on!  Now!”

“Right.  There’s nothing wrong with showing off my naked splendor, Detective!”  Lucifer paused in his efforts to escape.  “After all, it’s a privilege for mankind to view something as majestic as Naked Me!  You wouldn’t deprive the world of my magnificent beauty, would you?  Why, the entire history of the world could change if everyone just caught a glimpse of my glorious wedding tackle --”

He screamed like a banshee as she hit his glorious wedding tackle with ice cold water.  A satisfied smile lit her face as she lifted her chin.  That would teach him!

Hurt filled his expression as he huddled away from her and nursed his freezing manhood.  “Why would you do this, Detective?  It’s just cruel.”  A grin suddenly lit his face as he straightened and faced her.  “Lucifer likes!”

Chloe rolled her eyes.   _Oh, great._  Of course he would like it.  Of _course._

His eyes lit up with unholy glee as he stepped toward her.  “I’d love it if you sprayed me more.  I must admit, it’s inventive foreplay, and it would make my body look resplendent!  Glistening as if I was covered with sweat --  you humans are into that, are you not?  I abhor exercise, but this is an easy solution to that obstacle.  Granted, the cold water is far from comfortable, but if it excites you, I’d be more than happy to accommodate you --”

She groaned as she rubbed her forehead.  This was a complication she hadn’t expected.  “Oh god --”

“Dad couldn’t even come close to satisfying you like I could.”  The grin suddenly fell from his face and he grimaced.  “Bloody hell, why did you have to bring Dad into it?  Ugh, the thought of you and he....  I think I’m going to be ill.”   Squeezing his eyes shut, he shook his head violently.  “No, no, no.  Focus, Lucifer!”  When his head came back up, his expression was sultry... passionate... hungry.  “Detective....”  He walked toward her, intent clear in every line in his body.

She immediately backed up as he stalked her, until she found herself pinned against the statue of Michael.  Her heart pounded frantically and heat filled her cheeks as he placed a hand on the marble next to her head.  Refraining from touching her, he just leaned closer and closer, until his face filled her entire field of vision.  Her breath hitched in her chest.  He was so close -- so damn close!  All she saw were his dark eyes, his sexy stubble, his sensuous lips.  If she tilted her head up just an inch, their lips would meet.  Just an inch --

 _No!_  No, he was her partner and she couldn’t kiss him -- no matter how much she wanted him to!  Not while he was _naked_ and definitely _not_ on a Thursday!  What kind of gossip would she be setting herself up for, if she did that?

Ducking under his arm, she slipped away from him and held the spray bottle in front of her like a gun.  “Stay back, Lucifer.”

He cocked his head.  “Why are you running away, Detective?  I can give you what you desire --”

“Yes, you can.”  Without taking her eyes off of him, she leaned down and swiped up his clothes from the ground.  Tossing them to him, she said, “Put your clothes on.”

His brows furrowed in confusion.  “Put my clothes on? Is that another way of saying ‘let’s have sex’?”

The sudden urge to laugh hysterically bubbled up inside her, but she bit her cheek and forced it back.  Oh, had this been any other time and place, they already would have been having relations in the bushes.  “No.  It means put your clothes on.”

Pouting, he pulled on his boxer shorts.  “I don’t understand you, Detective. If the water wasn’t foreplay, what was it?”

She sighed and pulled at the tightness at the back of her neck.  “It was a way to get you to stay clothed.”  After tucking the spray bottle back in her shoulder bag, she closed her eyes, tipped her head skyward and listened to the rustle of his clothes as he dressed.  “Did you know you get naked at work every Thursday?   _Every_ Thursday.  Everyone’s talking about it, and I can’t have that.”

“Detective....”  The sound of his voice in her ear made her jump.  Her eyes flew open to find him close... too close.

But the predatory gleam in his eye was gone.  Instead it was replaced with remorse and... caring.  “Detective, I didn’t mean to cause you any distress.”

The tenderness on his countenance struck a chord deep within her.  As she felt her stress melt away, her mouth quirked upwards.  “I know.  And I know getting naked is second nature to you, but try not to be so predictable about it, okay?”

The soft smile he gave her warmed her heart, making it beat faster as butterflies fluttered in her stomach.  “Very well, Detective.  I will no longer get naked on a Thursday.”

“Thank you.”  For a long moment she looked at him, her heart hoping -- wishing -- that he would lean down and kiss her, even though she knew he wouldn’t.

His eyes fell to her lips for a long moment -- an eternity -- before rising to meet her aqua gaze.  His face was gentle... warm.  “You’re welcome.”  

Chloe’s heart tripped over itself as she studied him, seeing a look on his face that made her mouth go dry and her breath catch.  Having only caught glimpses of it before, she felt heat rise in her cheeks.  There was something in his expression so beautiful, so heartwarming, that she immediately wanted to throw herself into his arms -- something she was too afraid to name.  Something that she thought she had found once upon a time, only to find that she hadn’t.  Something....

He suddenly straightened and cleared his throat. “Right.  No nakedness on Thursday.”

The moment was lost.  The feeling of having let an elusive treasure slip through her fingers washed over her, leaving her bereft.  Clearing her throat as well, she straightened and started walking back toward the door to the building.  “Yes.  Not on Thursday.”

“Very well.”  Lucifer was silent a moment, falling in beside her as they walked through the courtyard.  Then he said, “Right.  What about Wednesday?”

Laughter bubbled up within Chloe and took flight, filling the air like birdsong as she tucked her hand in the crook of his elbow and leaned against him.  Her partner was incorrigible, and she loved that about him.  She loved _him,_ even though she would never admit it -- not even to herself.  He was a playboy, after all -- it would never work.  “Wednesday’s fine, Lucifer.  Just fine.”

 

 

 


End file.
